Running from the End
by ParisienneGryffindor
Summary: After Matthew tells her its the end for them at Lavinia's funeral, the only thing Mary can do is run...and maybe hide under a hedge.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

She couldn't think, couldn't feel. Her mind detached and she found her mouth forming the automatic expected response for itself. "Of course it's over, how could it not be?" She made it calmly around the corner, or it seemed like she did. She couldn't tell. She held her breath the whole time, and felt about to faint by the time she was out of his sight. She wished she could, to be honest, but there was no such easy escape from reality. The pain exploded in her chest and she took a gasping breath. She had to get away from this place. For a moment she couldn't will her feet to move. Then her mind rebelled against her body, and she couldn't ignore it anymore, that was when she started running.

She ran through the empty village, not thinking exactly where she was going, just away. By the time she found herself reaching the gates of Downton a painful blister was forming on her heel. So, she took off her shoes, leaving them in the damp grass. Once inside the estate, she kept running, but away from the house. They would be looking for her by now, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Her feet were cold and damp as the wet grass soaked through her stockings, leaving green stains on the beautiful silk fabric. Mary didn't notice. All she did was run. Finally, the house was well out of sight, but she kept running. She was tired now, and began to slow down. Spotting a large manicured shrub, she dropped to her knees and crawled under it, curling up on the cool damp earth beneath. No one would look for her here, as Lady Mary Crawley wouldn't ever hide in a shrub. She didn't care. Lady Mary Crawley would never leave her shoes in the grass, or ruin her new stockings either. But she wasn't herself anymore. She refused to be.

The tears, which she had refused to let come earlier, came now. They dripped silently down her face, as she slipped out of consciousness. Her sleep was free of dreams, yet felt haunted all the same. She awoke shivering, and opened her eyes. But there was nothing to see, it was pitch black out. A night with no moon. She felt a sob rising in her chest. She couldn't escape the pain. He hated her. She could still feel his expression burning her hours later. Matthew. She didn't know how she could stop loving him, even though she knew he would never love her again. She didn't see how it was possible to move on. Especially after she had confirmed it was over herself. He was finally free. Her heart had secretly felt the tiniest bit joy when Lavinia died. Even as she was mourned for the loss of Lavinia who had really never done anything wrong; even as she had cried that night, a part of her had been happy. Yet as soon as she had seen Matthew's face the next day, she knew she wasn't ever going to be happy again. If he was devastated, how could she be happy? This morning had crushed her last glimmer of hope, and now her world was filled with nothingness. Darkness filled her vision, and her eyes gently closed once again.

Matthew turned over for the hundredth time yet no matter how much he tossed and turned, sleep refused to come. He was rather sad for Lavinia's death, but that wasn't exactly why he couldn't sleep. He was angry with himself, he should be completely overwhelmed with grief for his deceased fiancée but he could not seem to muster the appropriate emotion. He should _not_ have felt relieved. What kind of person was he? Somehow, instead his thoughts kept coming to Mary. God, Mary. He shouldn't think about her. He didn't deserve her. For goodness sake, why couldn't he stop thinking about her? He had said the right thing, hadn't he? Wasn't he supposed to end it? Didn't she expect him to? Gosh, he wished he hadn't though, and he had a feeling she agreed. Had he been mean to her? As much as he tried to convince himself otherwise he had the uncomfortable feeling he had heard a sob only seconds after she had left his sight. Goodness, did she actually love him?

A quiet murmur of voices interrupted his thoughts as he heard the front door open, followed soon after by footsteps coming up the stairs. "Matthew," his mother said, knocking lightly on his bedroom door. "May I come in?"

"Hmm?" he mumbled, sitting up awkwardly. "Is something wrong?" He blinked, and saw his mother standing in the doorway, in her dressing gown and a grim expression upon her face.

"Well, unfortunately," she whispered loudly, "yes, I must say there is. William just arrived downstairs. Lord Grantham sent him to inform us that…" she paused for a moment, seeming to wait for his permission to continue speaking.

"Well, go on please. Surely it can't be that bad?" He muttered impatiently. But her expression made him wary. His mother wasn't distressed so easily, maybe it really was bad? She stared sadly at him for a moment and then stated with contrition.

"Mary is missing."

"What?" Whatever he had anticipated she would, it wasn't that. Where would Mary have gone? Why would she be missing? Unless…

"They're out searching for her now. They can't figure out why she wouldn't have come home immediately after the funeral. They're extremely worried, as you could imagine."

"Believe me, I can."

"You should help look for her Matthew; Lord Grantham requested it himself actually. He told William to ask you, although he also said he understood if you couldn't due to your recent loss. Still, they can't cover much of the estate without more help. Although, they aren't sure she's even on the estate as it is."

"Of course I'll help. Tell William that I will be down in a moment, as soon as I change into some proper clothes."

"Thank you sweetheart, Lord Grantham will really appreciate it. It's your duty as heir, after all."

"Of course" he repeated once again, a slight hint of dread filling his voice as his mother kept her eyes locked on his. She had something to say and she was going to force him to listen.

"Oh, and Matthew? I'm not aware of what you told Mary after the funeral, but I hope it wasn't too cruel. You ought to know that the last anyone saw of her was when the two of you were talking-"

"But that was hours ago!" The panic he had tried to suppress earlier when she first told him the news was rising now, he could feel his breath catch in his throat.

"I just thought I'd mention it. Now hurry up and get dressed, your help is needed." She looked at him searchingly before exiting the room, closing the door softly behind her.

"Good luck!" Isobel called after them as Matthew and William ventured out into the cool night air. Goodness, it was impossible to see anything. Where was the moon?

"Dark, isn't it?" said William.

"It most certainly is," replied Matthew. They were within sight of the estate gates now, and quickened their paces simultaneously as a clap of thunder echoed in the distance.

They walked on in silence for a few minutes longer when suddenly, Matthew tripped over something in the grass.

"What the..?" he yelped, looking down. "My word…Is that-"

"It appears to be a pair of shoes, Sir" said William. "In fact it seems that they are-"

"Lady Mary's shoes." finished Matthew grimly. Dread, panic, and fear flooded through him all at once as he picked up the shoes. All of the sudden a flash of lightning illuminated the sky, and followed by rain that poured down in freezing torrents, soaking them to the bone immediately.

"Shall we continue?" asked William. And with a silent, minute nod of his head, Matthew communicated his agreement and the two searchers continued through the rain.

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry I took forever to update, I've been really busy with school. I will try to update again soon but...we'll see. Anyways, please review and I will try to update sooner. I have the next few chapters planned already. Hope you like it :)

Chapter 2

Mary shuddered as another round of thunder echoed overhead. She wished she could just sleep and ignore the thoughts spinning her mind. She wished that she was really the emotionless statue Edith always accused her of being. It would be better really, if she was, for then she wouldn't ever have come to be in this miserable storm. She acutely felt the irony of it all, instead of being emotionless as they all thought her to be, she had succumbed to every emotion at once. Worst of all she had fled, she was trapped in the agony of desolation storming within her. So she stayed hidden and freezing in the soaking rain, if only to wallow in her own misery. It was selfish, she supposed, to leave her family to fret. Yet, she couldn't muster the composure she felt was necessary to be around anyone else. She was better off here in the shrub.

Mary wrapped her arms around her knees, trying not to give in to her senses. Her body was screaming for her to trade the bitter wet and cold for the glowing warmth of a flaming fire. She imagined if she were home right now, she would be perfectly cozy in her soft bed, enveloped within the fluffy soft layers as the last embers of the luminescent fire cast dancing shadows upon the delicate wallpaper of the room. But what was the point, really, in comfort? Matthew had cast her off, forcing her to abandon her stoic charade and retreat into her simplest shell. She almost could have smiled, struck with the irony that she had literally "run away with her emotions." But honestly, she felt only an overbearing sadness emanating from the depths of her soul. Edith would have laughed at that, Mary mused to herself…'Lady Mary Crawley willingly admitting to having a soul.'

The rain poured down in curtains, seeming to drift slowly, falling both lightly and heavily as the sparkling drops caught glimmers of starlight, and moonlight reflected in the dew pooling on the individual leaves of grass. It was breathtakingly beautiful yet Mary could only see sadness and despair reflected in the glittering sky. She felt the damp earth under her soak into her very being as her eyes drifted close. The branches of the shrub protected her while the wall of leaves formed a veil from the burdens of the world. She was in the cold leafy embrace of nature, and it was currently preferable to the emptiness of her own home, where no protective arms would ever hold her close. She rested soundlessly, shivering and haunted by dark dreams, yet at least she was safe from the scorn of her family.

She had almost fallen asleep, well not asleep per se, but into a sort of daze as she thought about Matthew. In fact it was almost as if she could hear Matthew's voice now. She imagined that he was calling her name, and just as her eyes were drifting shut they snapped back open in shock as she realized that he _was_ calling her, which meant that he was somewhere nearby_. _And apparently, so were the dogs, she realized as she heard barking in the held her breath as she heard footsteps coming closer. What was he doing looking for her? He obviously didn't care for her anymore. He had made that clear hadn't he? Still, maybe…? Oh, what was she thinking? Of course he didn't care for her in _that_ way, at least not anymore, but probably considered it his familial duty to help find her, or something to that effect. Typical noble Matthew, she thought bitterly as she tried to remain perfectly quiet and still, praying they wouldn't find her, as she heard the sniffling dogs coming ever closer.

Matthew wouldn't give up the search, not after he had been looking for hours, not even after he and William parted ways, with William going back to help search the village, and certainly not now. He had joined up with Lord Grantham and the dogs to try to find Mary before the rain destroyed any traces of her scent. They had looked almost everywhere, but the dogs hadn't found a scent. They would have to end the search for the night if they didn't find her soon. After all, she wasn't necessarily even on the estate. Suddenly, there was a bark from one of the dogs.

"By Jove, I think they've finally found the trail!" exclaimed Lord Grantham in an apprehensive tone. Matthew's stomach seemed to drop in a combination of dread and anticipation. As he looked at Lord Grantham he saw his own anxiety reflected in Lord Grantham's expression. They were both clearly worried about what state Mary would be in when they finally found her. They broke into a near jog as they followed the three soaking dogs, which were running with their noses to the ground towards a rather large and perfectly manicured shrub in the distance. They stopped directly in front on the shrub and began to bark softly, pawing at the ground. At that, Matthew broke into a flat out run as he drew nearer to the shrub and dropped to his knees in front of it, taking no regard for the mud and wet grass. There she was, soaking wet and shivering with a streak of mud across her forehead, Mary Crawley. He gasped in disbelief. He'd never seem her so vulnerable before.

"Oh, Mary!" he exclaimed as he gently reached to lay his hand on her shoulder and felt a massive shudder run through her. Goodness she must be freezing. He couldn't imagine how she came to be there, but obviously now wasn't really the best time to ask. She needed a hot fire and a cup of tea straight away. She was obviously semi-conscious, and while it seemed she was aware that they were there, she didn't speak of make any effort to communicate with them. Her eyes fluttered close as Matthew swept her into his arms and began walking in the direction of the village. "She will stay with us until she recovers" Matthew declared, for no apparent reason. Even he didn't know why he had said it; it just seemed like the right thing to say.

"Well I suppose that would be a good idea so your mother can make sure she is healthy, and to avoid upsetting Cora…but it could seem rather improper considering your history," replied Lord Grantham after a few moments consideration.

"With all due respect, I am her cousin after all" said Matthew, noting that Mary sighed softly, apparently she was asleep.

"In that case I will be going home, I will trust that you and Isobel will watch over her properly" and with that Mary's father began to walk back to his large home in the distance.

"Goodnight Robert," Matthew called after him.

"Goodnight to you too, Matthew, I expect to hear from you tomorrow." Lord Grantham replied his voice carrying loudly across the rain, already he was 10 meters away in the distance.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

She awoke to a clear view of the sky, which seemed to sway slowly as she was being rocked slightly by the strong arms carrying her, Matthew's. She sighed softly at the pure comforting sensation of it. As he carried her across the acres of lawn, Mary could almost believe that he loved her. The rain had stopped and a cool breeze ruffled her damp hair. It appeared that he hadn't noticed she was awake, so she remained silent, staring blankly at the suddenly clear and sparkling sky, and its glowing stars which flickered ever so slightly. She _had_ known, honestly, that she would be found at some point. She could deal with consequences later, for now all that mattered was that she could enjoy a few moments of being carried by Matthew, warmed by the human warmth of his arms. Time passed slowly, and she forgot how cold she felt. Matthew's presence pacified her.

It was only when their eyes met, when Matthew realized that Mary was no longer asleep. He saw sadness as he looked into her eyes, and tried to search for the reason why, as if her eyes could tell him. Why she had disappeared. Why she felt she had to run away. What she was running from. And what had led her to hide under a shrub? Wasn't it his fiancée who had just died?

He stared silently at her, waiting for her to speak, yet after five minutes of awkward silence they were still simply staring into each other's eyes, Matthew nearly tripped on a rock. And Mary giggled, breaking the seemingly everlasting silence. "Well, at least I'm not the one who decided to become a hedgehog" Matthew said to her abashedly.

"Well, really Matthew, I was perfectly happy where I was. I was not in any need of rescue whatsoever" she retorted obstinately.

"Perfectly happy, _really_ Mary…" he replied doubtfully, with a slight hint of concern. "Would you care to elaborate as to why you were hiding in such an unusual location, in such dreadful weather? It was hardly a healthy-"

"I honestly could care less about my health right now-"she began

"Goodness! What's wrong with you Mary? Can't you see how selfish you are? _My_ fiancée just died and now you force me to spend all night searching for you, fearing the worst, to only to find you've been hiding under a shrub? A shrub, Mary! Why?" Matthew exclaimed, only realizing later how infuriated his outburst sounded.

"Well, I…" she began in a quavering voice before falling silent. Matthew felt as if there was something he was missing, and only Mary could explain their predicament. He resolved to find out then in there, he gazed at her, about to speak, and found that there was no need for words.

Matthew stopped walking, grasped Mary closer and looked into her eyes, as if searching her soul. And finally in that millisecond he finally understood everything. "I'm so sorry Mary" he whispered, and then he kissed her.

_A shrub, Mary! Why? _

As Mary heard Matthew's words echo through her ears, she almost wanted to cry. She had meant to escape judgment at least for the night, but found her attempt to run had only brought Matthew's resentment even closer. She tried to come up with a logical answer, but none existed therefore she didn't know what she could say, and ended up finding herself speechless.

Suddenly, she felt Matthew stop abruptly in his tracks, and then his face was only inches from hers. Her heart fluttered, faltering as their gazes locked and their emotions intertwined in a symphony of mutual understanding. She held her breath, hoping with all of her being, willing him to understand that she, Mary Crawley was undeniably, head over heels, desperately in love with him. But did he grasp what she was feeling? And more importantly, did he even love her? She prayed he that he did, because recently it had seemed unlikely. He continued to look into her eyes, it felt like forever, but it was only a swiftly passing moment to the rest of the world. She couldn't breathe as she waited for him to do something, or anything to end the spell. Did he realize that she had only run away, and hidden under that blasted shrub because she loved him? Then, "_I'm so sorry Mary"_ he whispered remorsefully. He knew, he understood, and maybe he did love her after all, _maybe_. She sighed in relief, her heart filling with affection. For all of the sudden, he was kissing her, and everything was perfect.

Of course, Mary thought to herself, perfection couldn't last could it. Not when it came to Mary and Matthew, the star-crossed Crawleys. For at that moment she perceived a swiftly advancing figure out of the corner of her eye.

"Well, well….what have we here?" drawled the voice of Richard Carlisle

**Tbc**

**Thanks for reading, the next chapter should be longer, and I plan to post it really soon. Thanks for reading and please review. Merci Beaucoup!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"_Well, well….what have we here?" drawled the voice of Richard Carlisle_

"Hardly anything concerning _you,_" Matthew pronounced coldly "considering the fact that you didn't even think of helping to look for your own fiancée."

"Any fiancée of mine would not be expected to run away like a silly child. Therefore, there was virtually no point in searching for her"

"Honestly, Richard I was not being illogical- I was fine" said Mary dismissively.

"And kissing Mr. Crawley when you're engaged to me? What of that?" Carlisle said callously

Mary shivered in Matthew's arms, every moment she stayed out in the cold, she was risking getting sick. She needed to get in front of a warm fire, and that needed to happen soon. Her stocking-clad feet were still soaked from the earlier rain, and freezing without her shoes, which were still lying forgotten somewhere on the vast lawn.

"We need to get you inside," Matthew said softly to Mary.

"I believe that _I'll_ take her from here," said Sir Richard icily.

"On the contrary, Lady Mary is coming home with me" Matthew replied, "It has already been arranged with Lord Grantham."

"Going home with you? First I witness you kissing my fiancée, and now you say she's going home with you?" He then turned his attention to his fiancée, with a grim expression on his face, "Mary, if you go with him, I'm afraid it means I will no longer wish to marry you," he said smugly.

"Well so be it then," she said calmly. Matthew turned and began walking towards the village with Richard Carlisle's former fiancée in his arms, leaving the shocked Sir Richard rooted to the spot. Once they were out of the gates, Mary began to laugh happily.

"Did you see the look on his face? It was much easier to get rid of him than I thought…"

"How very convenient for you," laughed Matthew, finding himself especially amused by Mary's lighthearted mood. By now they had reached the door of Crawley house, and rang the bell. "And how convenient for me as well…" he spoke contentedly. Then, blushing, he stammered "Why does Mosley always take so long to get the door? I-"

"Matthew, do you really mean that?" Mary said softly, "do you actually love me?"

"Yes," he breathed.

"Truly?" she implored.

"Is this a convincing answer?" he asked, and then he kissed her, the world spinning around them sweetly, and their previous worries drifted away with the breeze.

Just then, the door swung open to reveal Isobel Crawley looking unnervingly stern in a frilly dressing gown. "Thank goodness Matthew, you're finally home. I take it they must have found-"

She stopped suddenly, taking in the image of the embracing couple in front of her with extreme shock. Matthew and Mary both blushed abashedly while the former stepped into the house and set Mary on her feet.

Isobel closed the door behind them; it clicked shut forebodingly, and then she turned to face Matthew.

"Matthew Crawley! You have some explaining to do! Kissing an engaged woman, well I never!-"

"Lord Grantham said she could stay here tonight Mother"

"Did he really?" she placed a hand on Mary's shoulder. "My dear, you're frozen to the bone, follow me and we'll get you some dry clothes, and in front of a fire.

Matthew sighed in relief, hoping that he had escaped his mother's wrath.

"Oh, don't think that I've forgotten you young man." Isobel said dryly.

Mary laughed while Matthew gulped nervously. She turned to follow Mrs. Crawley, who was marching her way upstairs.

**Approximately One Hour Later**

Mary sat in front of the Crawley's sitting room fire wrapped in a thick blanket and holding a steaming cup of tea in her hand. She could hear Matthew explaining the events of the last few rainy hours to his mother, but had heard only silence from Isobel thus far.

"So you see mother, there was really nothing wrong about me kissing Mary, especially since we shall be married soon" he finished. All was silent for a moment as the three soaked in what had been said, until Mary broke the veil of quiet in an amused voice.

"Oh we are to be married, are we?" Mary asked coyly "I don't recall you asking me,"

"Well, I had rather assumed that-"

"On one knee, and do it properly." Isobel demanded of her son, holding back a laugh. Matthew got up off the couch and kneeled before the armchair in which Mary sat. He stared at her smiling for a moment before softly asking,

"Lady Mary, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

"Yes! absolutely!" Mary replied joyfully. He picked her up and swung her around as she giggled joyfully. Matthew began to sing very joyfully and very out of tune, until Mary silenced him with her lips.

Isobel inched slowly out of the room, unnoticed, as the reunited couple kissed for the third time during that rainy night.

The End

**Thank you so much for reading this story! It's been my first fan fiction, and I've really enjoyed writing it. Thanks so much for reviewing, and I look forward to writing another story sometime soon. And as always, please review! –ParisienneGryffindor**


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